


In The Long Run

by hyucksie (renjunlite), renjunlite



Series: Time Bound [1]
Category: K-pop, NCT (Band), SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24368326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renjunlite/pseuds/hyucksie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/renjunlite/pseuds/renjunlite
Summary: You and best friend!Mark travel to the future and meet a little boy who calls you "mommy" and "daddy."
Relationships: Mark Lee (NCT)/Reader
Series: Time Bound [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759402
Comments: 12
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

“Bullshit,” the word bounced resolutely on the walls, a sharp contrast to the visual of the boy it came from. He was sitting on your bed, back to the headboard, wearing a matching green hoodie and sweatpants and the bumblebee headband you had forced on him earlier. “That is absolute bullshit.”

You sat on the opposite edge of the bed in a similar posture of defiance. Your eyes narrowed at his remarks, your grip tightened on the necklace caged in your right hand. “Okay then. If you don’t wanna go, then don’t.”

“Come on, you can’t seriously think this is real!” His hand frantically gestured between the necklace you were holding and the leather-bound journal spread open between the two of you. You fixed your stare on him with a straight face, refusing to give in. His frustrated gaze shifted between your eyes, waiting for a response before he finally threw his head back and sighing in defeat. Slowly, he placed his eyes back on you. “So. Time travel. Let’s pretend for a moment it’s possible—”

“Because it is—”

“Where would we even go?” He asked, quickly finishing the question as if you never interrupted him.

A crease made its way between your brows. “Where did your imagination go, Mark Lee? I can’t believe you’re being the boring one right now,” He rolled his eyes before hitting back, “Yeah, I can’t believe I’m the voice of reason in this friendship for once. You’re the science major—”

“Health major—”

“—so it’s even harder to believe you’re seriously considering this.” As he spoke, you saw his hand reaching over to you, tapping twice on your knee to stop the leg you’ve been bouncing restlessly on the bed. An old habit you haven’t managed to fix. “And you have your practicals in a few days, Y/N. Shouldn’t you be worrying about that instead of...this?”

You ran your free hand through your hair, momentarily closing your eyes at the unwanted reminder. “Exactly! I’ve been drowning myself in revisions for days and—and it feels like all the processes and information just slip from my head. I got so desperate that I practiced on a grape!”

There was a good two seconds of silence between the two of you, enough to notice your leg had started bouncing again. “You’re saying...” Mark started, scooting a little closer to you to place his hand back on top of your knee, and this time he kept it there. “You did surgery... on a grape.” Resigned, you shrugged your shoulders at the question. “Well, technically, I tried to suture a grape.” Your hand weaved the motions of a curved needle going up and down, the gold chain of the necklace you held hitting your wrist lightly with every movement. Mark’s other hand shot up to your wrist, stopping your air sutures before setting both your hands down to the bed.

“And is that supposed to be less... worse?” He asked. “No,” you shrugged, a small smile dancing on your lips at finally gaining control of the discussion. “You see what I mean? I was so stressed out that I thought, fuck this, I need a breather. So I go to my bookshelf to take a time out and—” your train of thought was cut short, interrupted by a snort. You glared at Mark, watching him as he tried to hide his laugh in the crook of his elbow. “What?! Why are you laughing?” He sat up quick, like he was coming up for air. “Nothing, you’re just...” “Just what, Lee?” “You’re such a fucking nerd.” You glared at him, willing any god that would listen to grant you laser beams that could shoot out of your eyes. Normally, you wouldn’t blink at such a weak hit, but “Coming from you? Really? I’m the nerd?”

“Hey, even I wouldn’t think of looking for other books when I’m trying to take a break from them.” You huffed, annoyed that he had a point. Admittedly, although both of you took your studies seriously, you were the one who preferred to burrow in the bed sheets, nose buried in a book. Mark was a more social being. Although he loved to stay in as much as you did, he was like a magnet, drawing people to him wherever he went. You weren’t surprised to see that he quickly became friends with nearly everyone in the music department, from freshmen to seniors and even professors. You were nowhere near as popular as he was, and although you’ve made plenty enough friends, he was always the only one that came to mind whenever you needed someone beside you, and you needed him on board with you right now.

“Whatever. As I was saying, I was looking through my shelf for a distraction, and I found this.” You gestured to the open journal, the pages showing an ink drawing eerily identical to the necklace you held. “It was my grandma’s. You remember how I told you she gave each of us something of hers before she, uh,” You felt a faint squeeze from where Mark’s hand was resting on your knee, a little assurance that you didn’t need to say it out loud. You cleared your throat, “Yeah. So she gave my mom a gemstone necklace and she decided to give me her diary.” A small smile ghosted his lips before he muttered in a low voice, “That suits you perfectly…” “What?” He shrugged his shoulders at you, “Nothing. Go on.”

“It was my first time to actually read it. I was just so stressed out and… and I was thinking, her words might—like, my parents aren’t usually here and she was always the one who soothed me, you know? I mean—I guess she used to,” You kept your head low as you stumbled over your words, suddenly aware of the sharp turn in what used to be a superficial argument with your best friend. You felt his thumb drawing light circles on your skin, and you took his silence as your cue to continue. “At first it was just normal, boring stuff. Well, I thought it was until here,” your fingers whizzed through the journal, stopping at the particular pages you were looking for. “Look at the dates of these two.”

His eyes darted between the top right corners of the opposite pages, “They’re two years apart. Maybe she stopped writing for a while?” He said, but you shook your head, having already considered that before. “But look, the second entry had an earlier date. It was 1988 and then it’s suddenly 1986 again.” “I don’t know, Y/N. Maybe she skipped some pages and wrote on it later? You do that a lot too. Your messy writing could be a gene thing.” You rolled your eyes at his half-assed guess. “A gene thing? First of all, I intentionally skip pages because my pathology professor is messy, not me. He likes to jump between chapters. And second, it’s not just these pages.” You went through the next pages one by one, pointing a finger at all the erratic entry dates. “This one even says 1954!”

“Yeah, sure. But even I could write in my journal today and date it 1738.” You pressed your lips together, taking a deep breath through your nose, pulling on your remaining patience. Of course. Who wouldn’t be skeptical of time travel? Even you had a hard time believing it yourself. Wordlessly, you flipped back to the page with a drawing of the necklace and looked him in the eyes. “I know it’s hard to believe, especially since you didn’t get to read it,” and you probably would never let him, knowing what personal stories those pages contained, “but I did. I read this thing from end to end. Over and over. You’re just gonna have to trust in what I’m saying.” You took a deep breath before carrying on. “She was a time traveler, and she wrote all about it here. The further I read, the more the weird dates started to make sense. And this,” you unclasped your fingers on the necklace, revealing the garnet ring it had for a pendant in the middle of your palm, “was what she used to time travel. When I first saw the drawing, I just knew I recognized that necklace from somewhere. Then it clicked! It was the one she gave my mom.” You laid down the necklace next to its ink rendition on the journal, waiting for the boy who was looking thoughtfully at the jewelry to say something.

“Look, Y/N. I get that this obviously… means something to you, but where do I fit into all this? Have you even tried it yourself?” He said it in such a soft voice, and you suddenly felt a little apologetic. After all, you did call him up in the middle of the night, telling him it was important and that you needed him right now. He didn’t even ask you what was going on, only said he was on his way before dropping the call along with anything else he might’ve been up to. Probably studying for that music theory test he mentioned.

“Mark, if you really don’t want to... then it’s okay. I didn’t try it myself yet because—” because you were honestly too scared and you were only ever brave enough to try things when you’re with him, “—because I just need a witness to prove it’s true and I’m not crazy, okay? I mean, if you don’t think it’ll actually work then what’s the worst that could happen? And if it doesn’t work… I swear I’ll stop bothering you about it,” your voice tapered towards the end, “and I’ll never bring up anything stupid again.” You felt your earlier motivation seeping out with a flood of guilt taking its place. You stayed like that for a moment, the quiet enveloped around the room. You were already mapping out an escape plan in your head. You’ll just laugh it out, say it was all a prank, someone put you up to it, it was a dare —

“So,” the sound of Mark clearing his throat snapped you out of your thoughts as he dropped both his hands on top of your shoulders, “where do you want us to go?” Your head snapped up, feeling his thumbs on your collar bones, lightly grazing the skin back and forth. Your eyes grew wider as did your smile, a similar one gracing the lips of your best friend.

“Seriously?!” You placed your own hands on top of his. He let out a small laugh at the look on your face, “Yeah, sure. I’m the fun one after all. But I’m not letting you live this down if nothing happens.” You were too happy to fight him on that, instead pulling his hands down in front of you and clasping them together. “Oh my god, we’re going to the future,” you said, unable to hide the enthusiasm in your tone as you shook the hands caged within yours. He laughed even louder, and even you couldn’t help but chuckle at how absurd it all sounded.

“And how are we gonna get there?” There was a sparkle in his eyes as he asked, as if he was not once opposed to the idea. You were the one to break the tangle of hands, your arm stretching down to retrieve the journal. Mark watched your concentrated expression in front of him carefully as you skipped near the final pages. Your eyes moved from left to right and downwards on the page before lingering at the bottom. Minutes later, you snap the journal closed with one hand and shift your gaze back to him.

“Okay, first of all,” you put the journal down and picked up the necklace, “I’ll wear this.” You fumble with the spring clasp, mentally swearing at how your shaking fingers felt so weak. Damned grape surgery. Mark pulled you away from your struggle, snatching the thin chain from your hands and making easy work of the clasp. Instead of handing it back, he promptly swept your hair over one shoulder before his hands went around your neck, his head stooped over to one side as he re-latched the necklace on you. “Quite pretty, I just noticed,” he remarked distractedly, his eyes on the ring that hung from the chain, its deep red rock resting against the skin of your chest. You coughed, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. “And we should wear our shoes!” He raised an eyebrow at this, but nonetheless stood and helped you up from the bed.

You retrieved both pairs from outside the door, handing his over before wearing your own. “We should leave behind any small valuables. Do you have any on you?” He shook his head, pointing his other hand at the bedside table where his phone, keys, and wallet lay. “Okay,” you took a second to go through your mental list again, “Oh, the stone should be touching your skin too, so I can take you with me.” “What stone?” “This,” you pointed to the gem on the necklace. You saw him thinking, giving you a quick look before settling his eyes on the ring pendant again. “Okay,” he raised a hand tentatively until his index finger was resting lightly on the gem. “Great. Now I just need to picture where I want to go—”

“How would you know what the future looks like?” You gave him a knowing smile, having expected him to ask that. But you would leave that story for another time. “Just trust me,” you said, closing your eyes and painting the scenery in your mind, “and don’t let go of the ring, otherwise you might get stuck in-between and I wouldn’t know how to fix that.”

“Wait, I might what?” As if you hadn’t just warned him, his finger lifts slightly off the pendant when you start to feel it tingle against your skin. In panic, you pulled on his hand, laying his palm flat out on your chest just before you felt an overwhelming heat surround you, your eyes shutting tight as the room was swallowed in light.

* * *

Your eyes remained closed as the soft breeze danced lightly on your skin, your fingers digging into the gritty texture of sand, smaller bits working their way beneath your nails. Your chest felt heavier than normal, making your eyelids flutter at the extra weight. The first thing you saw was Mark’s resting figure, his upper body apparently overlapped on yours. Heat rushed its way across your cheeks, more so when you noticed that his folded arm splayed across you was the only thing keeping his head from resting on your bust. The memory of you forcing his hand there made you cringe. You shook him by the shoulder, worried he might instead wake up from the pounding in your chest.

“Mark.” A groan resonated from him, the vibrations and his warm breath only reminding you of how close he was. “Mark!” He lifted his head at the shout, looking all disgruntled as he squinted at you, clearly still out of it. Making no move to get off you, he began eyeing your surroundings. With the bright sun out and your faces in close proximity, you could see the vague reflections in his eyes: a lone bench sandwiched between thin trees, a slide next to a swing set—exactly how you pictured it. _We’re here_.

“Did… did we do it?” he whispered, drawing your attention from his eyes down to his lips. “Yeah, I think so. Welcome to the future,” you whispered back, unable to draw your gaze from his mouth that was slightly agape. It was like his face painted over with a new expression, from his eyebrows shooting up, his eyes growing even rounder, his jaw quite literally dropping in awe. It was an expression you saw him wear quite often. One of your favorite qualities was his penchant for wonder, and how it unabashedly showed on his face.

He blinked at you twice before remembering how to speak, “Holy shit. Holy shit! We fucking did it!” Just then, the magnitude of what you’ve accomplished rushed back to you, and you flashed him a grin that could rival his own. “Yo, we really fucking did it! Holy shit!” You were about to stop his rambling by asking him to roll over, assuming the shock has kept him from realizing he was practically on top of you, but the sound of a clicking tongue beside you beat you to it.

“Tch. I wouldn’t keep shouting that out if I were you,” in sync, your heads turned towards the voice. A man, probably in his 50′s, was leering down at you. As if Mark finally came to his senses, he scrambled off of you, sitting up on the sand before pulling you up as well. “Kids these days, I swear! No one teach you any basic decency?” You noticed the rake he was leaning against, a small pile of dead leaves behind him. Beside you, Mark seemed to struggle for an explanation, his mouth opening and closing on repeat, as if he was stuck on loop. “Okay, millennial,” the man said in a high-pitched mocking voice, “it’s 2038, get over it!” Your eyes widen at the mention of the year. “You kids never listen. Even my generation had enough shame not to do it in a schoolyard with children,” he muttered, walking away with his rake in hand.

You turned to look at Mark, whose neck was craned away from you at an uncomfortable looking angle, giving you a full view of his reddened ear. “Mark? Hello?” You waved a hand at him but he didn’t budge, looking intensely at a stray pebble. “Did you hear what he said?” You didn’t think it was possible, but his ears burned a deeper shade than before, his hand scratching at the back of his neck. “Y-yeah, I heard… sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“2038! We’re in 2038!” He stayed silent as he finally looked at you, another one of his little smiles making an appearance. You knew the best way to deal with a flustered Mark was to brush it all off, try take his mind off things even if the same things still flustered you. “You promise this isn’t some elaborate prank, right? Did you just club me on the head and drag me out to a random playground? How’d you get the old guy in on it? Wait,” he fake gasped, “was he the one who clubbed me?” He pretended to search his head for any signs of inflicted violence.

“No one clubbed you, dumb ass.” You rolled your eyes at his antics, but overall you were just really glad to have him with you. “But keep that up and I might consider it,” you teased, messing with his hair until you noticed something missing. “Hey, where’s my bee headband?” You whined, recalling how you bought the headpiece just two days ago. “Huh, I don’t know… can’t say I’m missing it too much though,” he retorted. You had to wrestle that thing on him earlier, knowing how much he disliked wearing and doing cute things. He was too naturally adorable though, so you threatened him with a choke hold each time he made a move to take it off. You stood up, dusting the sand off your sweatpants, Mark doing the same beside you. You turned around, eyeing the immediate area for the headband. Instead, your eyes land on a pair of small black shoes. 

“Mommy?” A schoolboy was openly staring at your direction, his little hands wrapped tightly on the blue straps of his backpack. You looked behind you to see who he was calling for, but you only found Mark a few feet away with his back turned to you, probably still looking for the headband. “Mommy! You’re here!” The shrill voice jerked your attention back to the front, eyes widening when you saw the little boy sprinting towards you. You started to retreat, legs moving backward, but there was no avoiding the collision. You froze in place when you felt the fabric of the kid’s uniform against your knees, his arms quickly wrapping themselves around you and resting unabashedly on your butt. You look down and see the round wonder-filled eyes staring back at you, the light from the sun accentuating their brown flecks and the excitement they contained. _Weird_ , you thought, _that face looks almost familiar_. You felt his chin dig into the top of your shorts as he spoke, “Mommy? Your hair looks different today.”

“Uh, sorry kid, but I don’t think I’m—”

“Y/N! Look at this!” Before you could appeal your case for mistaken identity, Mark ran up to where the little boy held your hips hostage. You looked back, met with Mark’s eager expression, his lips curled into a smile, cheekbones set high and the sunlight bouncing off his round puppy-like eyes—wait. You’ve seen that before.

You felt the little boy shift in his tight embrace and your eyes traveled down to see the exact moment he noticed Mark behind you. As soon as his small features lit up with that same bright expression, you turned back and saw Mark’s face collapse into confusion. Despite their split timing, there was no denying the chill that crept up your spine at the eerie similarity. Your eyes couldn’t stay still, going back and forth at the faces of the two boys as you experienced a loop of deja vu between them.

“Uh, Y/N? What’s going on h—”

“Daddy!” With the same shrill shriek, the boy broke you free from his tight hug and beelined towards Mark, who unlike you was blessed with spider-like reflexes and had already made a run for it in the opposite direction. You, however, were rendered motionless by an avalanche of thoughts at what just happened. _Daddy? He’s Mark’s son? They do look exactly the same, it kinda checks out... wait. No. Pause. Why did he call me his mo—_

“Noah? Is that you? Goodness, let go of that man’s leg—oh! Mrs. Lee!” The added commotion reeled you back to reality. “Mrs. Lee, how good to see you! Noah was just waiting to be picked up.” A middle aged lady, colored hair reaching just past her shoulders, and dressed in what seems to be a teacher’s uniform, was waving at you. _Mrs. Lee._ Your blood ran cold. “It’s good to see you,” she repeated slowly in front of you, a brow raised in concern at what was probably your dazed, slightly terrified look. She flashed you a friendly smile before you had the mind to answer, “Oh! Hello, um,” you made a quick, hopefully not too noticeable, once over to check if she had a name tag or ID. No such luck. “Uh, yes! Very good to see you too!” You squeaked out, deciding a generic answer would be safest. You secretly twiddled with your thumbs, arms hidden behind you as she started talking again, her words not quite registering in your still shocked state. _Mrs. Lee._

Before you could think of anything else, a yelp coming from behind had both you and the teacher glancing to find that the kid—Noah—had managed to anchor himself on Mark’s left leg, who was currently still facing away from you, desperately trying to get away from the tiny death grip. “Noah! Noah Lee! Let go right now!” At the sound of the teacher’s voice growing more stern by each word, Mark’s leg was freed, allowing him to sprint a few feet away, making a sudden full stop when he almost clashed against the swing set, not bothering to look back at the scene behind him. On the other hand, you noticed the little gulp that Noah made before making timid steps towards his teacher, who was now looking at him with her hands on her hips and a slight tilt to her head.

“Noah,” she greeted with a much calmer voice, the boy now in front of her, head bowed with his arms behind him. “Why were you bothering that man just now?” He refused to lift his gaze, fully focused on digging his school shoes into the sand instead. With a sigh, the teacher shifted her weight on her other foot, turning her head sideways to instead look at you. It took you a second to realize that she was waiting for you to answer the question, feeling even smaller under the attention of her authoritative gaze, as if you were another grade schooler about to get a scolding. “Uh, don’t worry about that! That guy, he’s—he’s with me,” you explained, hand unconsciously creeping to the back of your neck.

“Oh?” She looked back to where Mark still stood, stiff as a department store mannequin. Seeing his state relaxed you a bit, un-tensing your shoulders and releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. At least you were doing better than he was. Mark was the social one, but he never could reel in his awkwardness at unexpected encounters. It was arguably part of his charm. “And that man would be your…?” You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows a bit at the lady in front of you, feeling as though the conversation was dragging far more than you wanted. _None of your business_ , you thought of saying, until you spotted Noah, now tugging on his teacher’s blouse, poised to answer the question himself. “That’s my—” 

“He’s my friend!” Quicker than light, you had stepped forward and pulled the boy against you, effectively burying his face against your hip and cutting him off faster than he could say ‘daddy.’ You clenched your eyes shut at the thought, not wanting to deal with those implications right now. At least not in front of her. Thankfully, Noah was quiet, almost pliant as he was now hugging onto your thigh. Strangely, the little boy’s touch felt reassuring to you. You quietly sucked in a breath, facing his teacher once more. “He’s a friend of mine.” You threw in a smile to boot, hoping she would leave it at that. 

Fortunately, she didn’t pry further and gave you a very bright, very practiced smile. “Alright, then. But I must say, you still look young as ever! With how busy you are… how do you maintain your skin?” _My skin?_ you thought, confused at her sudden change in demeanor and the random topic of discussion. _Oh. Right. I’m supposed to be 18 years older._ “Oh! Uh, just—well, my uh…” you fumbled, trying to rack your brain for the products you actually used, panicked at the possibility of the products phasing out within the past 18 years. “It’s uh—it’s a gene thing! Haha!” You squeaked out, partly horrified that you had just said ‘haha’ in an actual conversation.

“Ah, I wish I had that luck as well,” she answered, giving you a once over, an eyebrow raising when her eyes met your unzipped hoodie, spaghetti top, and denim shorts ensemble. “I see you’re dressed more… casual than usual today. A day off?” You started feeling more and more antsy, the abundance of her questions beginning to annoy you. “Yeah, and you know how rare they come! I’d just like to spend every free minute I get with my…” you made a point of fluffing the boy’s hair, making him burst tiny giggles against your skin “...with my son.” The word was a foreign taste on your tongue, but you tried best as you could to make it sound natural, wishing nothing more than to end the conversation and freak out in privacy.

“Oh, of course!” She gave you a close lipped smile, strangely more genuine than the one she wore earlier. “I’m happy that you’re spending time together today.” She squatting down to the boy’s height, she put a hand on his shoulder. “He would sometimes talk about how busy his parents are, but of course that doesn’t mean they don’t love him. Isn’t that right, Noah?” He peeked at her from under his lashes before nodding shyly and then immediately retreating back into your touch. The teacher stood up, once more sending a smile your way. “Well, I shouldn’t be keeping you any longer. Have a great time together, Mrs. Lee!” 

With that final reminder of who you would become in 18 years’ time, she walked away. Now you were left to deal with a future you have yet to come to terms with: the stranger clinging to you was now your son, and his father was your best friend—your husband.

_**< to be continued>** _


	2. Chapter 2

**[2038]**

You don’t know what spirit possessed you, but it didn’t take even a full minute for you to get a grip on your senses and decide that you _definitely_ needed to get away from this playground. Only god knows what you might do if you stumble upon one more unwanted encounter with a not-so-stranger. Noah was still clinging to your waist, and there was something about such a tiny cute face looking up at you with adoration that sparked a confidence within, a certainty that you couldn’t quite put a finger on. Your hands went to your back, grabbing at his small ones that were laced together and locked in place around you. It took two tugs, one only slightly more forceful than the other, before he reluctantly let go. Your freedom was short lived though, as his hand immediately shot up to yours and gripped on your two fingers. You let it stay there, the contact not bothering you as much as it did before the shock wore off. You felt an inexplicable affinity for the boy who held you so tight like he was afraid you would fly away from his grasp, and it was that same affinity that had your thumb rubbing lightly on the fingers encased around yours, wanting to assure him that you weren’t going to disappear. _Not yet._

You strung the boy along as you walked towards the real difficulty in all this: your scatterbrained, awkward, and bestest friend. You tapped Mark’s shoulder once he was within arm’s reach, but he didn’t turn to face you. “Is the coast clear?” He whispered, and you rolled your eyes at him even though he couldn’t see. “No. Their class just ended and a whole herd of kids are rushing towards us as we speak.” As always, your best friend was weak in detecting the sarcasm in your voice, whipping around and instinctively grabbing your arm as he was about to make a break for it. However, he stopped abruptly at the sight of the other, smaller limb holding tightly onto yours. “Oh, no no no _no—_ please not again,” it was as if Noah didn’t hear him, smiling up brightly and extending his arm towards the older boy’s sleeve. Mark was quick to retract from his hold on you, avoiding the younger’s touch like the plague. “Oh my god Y/N, why is it still here?” He had both arms folded upwards, his hands balled into fists, twitching and jumping back every time Noah stepped closer to him.

“Did you seriously just call him _‘it’?”_ He looked at you like you were out of your mind. “What, you two are friends now?” You took a deep breath. “You’d be surprised.” Before Mark could say anything back, he screeched at the feeling of Noah latched onto his leg once again. “Look! You distracted me and now it’s—” “Daddyyyyy,” the small voice dragged out, cutting Mark off and seemingly making his brain short-circuit. _“Oh my god._ I don’t know how many times you want to hear it from me but kid, I am _not_ your—” “I missed you sooo much, daddy!” Mark visibly winced this time, taking a minute to compose himself. “Look, kid—” “His name’s Noah,” you interrupted, unsure of why you now felt defensive over the little boy, earning yourself a quick glare from your best friend. _“Noah._ I hate to keep telling you this and I’m really sorry,” The kid was undeterred, however. He was simply smiling, his head slowly turning back to you as the younger version of his father spoke. “But you need to stop calling me that. You must be mista—” 

“I missed you too, mommy.” There it was. You went rigid on spot, eyes boring into Noah. You couldn’t lift your gaze to look at Mark’s reaction, but you could hear him perfectly. “Oh, no. _No._ You are _definitely_ mistaken, little man.” For a moment you tuned out of reality, Mark’s voice fading into background noise as you finally gave yourself time to let the ridiculous truth set in. In 18 years’ time, you will be a mother. You will be a _wife._ You will marry your best friend, and you will carry and bring his child into the world. This will be your reality, this will be your _future._ Your future… with Mark. You looked up at him, seeing his lips move fast, but not quite paying attention to his words. _How would I feel about falling in love with my best friend?_

Truth be told, it was not the first time you considered this. Mark was… _him._ He was endearingly awkward, smart, determined, caring, sweet, and so, so utterly kind. No one knew you better than he did, and you liked to think you were the same for him.He stuck with you through thick and thin. Even when his world seemed to grow bigger while yours kept shrinking around the two of you, he never complained. You did, though. Insecurity sometimes got to you and you worried that your ever consistent presence was starting to annoy him, but he always quickly shut down such thoughts. He assured you as much as he could, always stumbling over his words but getting his point across nonetheless: that he needed you just as much as you needed him, and that he _loved_ you. Mark loves you. Does he love you in _that_ way too?

“Hello?” You finally snapped out of it, Mark exasperatedly waving his arms in front of you. “Help me out here?” He asked. You took in the scene in front of you, and the similarity of their features was still so unnerving that you just stared at the pair for a moment. “He won’t stop accusing us of being his parents!” You almost chuckled at how he took it as an accusation, but Mark looked genuinely distressed, so you pursed your lips instead and tried to think of how to coax him out of shock. “Don’t you think we should, uh… give him the benefit of the doubt, at least?” You tried to convince him, and it was a weak attempt judging by the dubious expression on his face. There was silence in the air, as if Mark was waiting for you to drop the punchline. “You’re kidding me, right?” “Not really…” “No, please, tell me you’re not on board with—with _this!”_ “Come on. Just look at him! He’s a carbon copy of you!” “That doesn’t prove anything!” 

Your volumes kept rising after every sentence, and the way Noah shrunk with every shout didn’t pass you by. You gently pried him off of Mark’s leg, placing him between the two of you, resting your hands on top of his shoulders. “If that won’t convince you, well, I spoke to his teacher—” he scoffed at that, interrupting you “Wow, you’re really taking this _mom_ role seriously, huh?” The frustration was growing on you and the urge to shout was getting harder to resist, but you just squeezed Noah’s shoulders assuringly, opting instead to throw Mark a nasty glare. “She started talking to me. She _recognized_ me, and I’m pretty sure if she’d seen you we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now,” you reasoned, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible, but Mark didn’t seem to let up. “You’re ridiculous.” _“I’m_ ridiculous?” “Yes!” “Mark, we are literally in 2038. I don’t know about you but I don’t think _anything_ could sound ridiculous to me anymore.” He went quiet for a second, but it was obvious from the furrow of his eyebrows and the heavy rise and fall of his chest that he wasn’t done yet. “I just—I just can’t _believe_ you. You really think that _this_ is possible? That—that me, with _you?”_

Just like that, it was your turn to fall silent. Just like that, he quenched your own curiosity of his feelings. The revelation hurt, and the pain wasn’t like the shock of ice water to unsuspecting skin. It felt more like the slow trickle of acid burning down your throat, slowly seeping down your chest, spreading a bitterness within—but did you really expect anything more? Him with _you?_ What could you have possibly said against that? Despite the sting of his words, you couldn’t bring yourself to resent him for it. No, this was _your_ hurt, not his. Mark, after all, was _him_. Smart, caring, and kind, but when the situation called for it he was also straightforward and terribly honest, the words just tumbling out of him. And you were grateful that he was capable of it. You were glad that your warmhearted best friend wasn’t completely perfect and had his moments, otherwise you knew it would be too easy for the many people around him to take advantage of his kindness. You just didn’t expect one of those moments to be directed towards you, and you didn’t expect it to hurt this much. 

Perhaps it was because of the drop in the mood or the look on your face, but you saw Mark turn away from you, clearing his throat but making no acknowledgment of what’s just been said. It was only a few minutes of silence between you, but it could have been years in your mind. Mark turned his gaze back, but his eyes landed on Noah instead of you. “Alright. Let’s test your theory, kid.” Tentatively, he kneeled down on one knee to face the little boy. Mark gulped, his first time to actually see the boy up close a little more nerve wracking than he thought. “What’s my name?” He asked. Without missing a beat, “Daddy!” Noah answered, a big smile plastered on his face. Mark cringed, but didn’t say anything to refute him. “What’s my _real_ name?” He tried again. “Mark Lee!” At that answer, Mark didn’t move from his spot, searching through his brain if there was any instance that you mentioned his name during your conversation, well, argument, but in the end he came up with nothing. Reluctantly, Mark looks up to you for a quick second before looking back to Noah. “And what’s _her_ name?” He cocked his head to gesture towards you, his heart racing as he waited for the kid’s answer. “Y/N,” Noah said, looking back to you, “Y/N Lee!” He set his eyes back to his father, finding him a little dazed and slack-jawed. “Daddy?” He called to Mark in a small voice. He couldn’t seem to find the right words, “I—I… I can’t—”

He wasn’t able to finish formulating whatever he wanted to say, Noah fiddling with the ID hanging from his neck, letting out little puffs of frustration as he tried to get the card out of the plastic casing. Mark realized what he was trying to do, taking the ID from the boy’s hands and taking the card out himself. _St. George’s School. Noah Lee. Grade 1. Academic year 2038-2039._ He flipped it over, reading the backside. _In case of emergencies, call: Y/N Lee. Relationship: Mother._ He didn’t get to the part with your phone number and home address written beneath, eyes going back to your name over and over. _Y/N Lee._ As if you could see the thoughts that raced in his head, it was your voice that pulled him out of his trance. “Are you hungry?” You asked Noah, to which the boy nodded his head enthusiastically. “Well, where do you want to eat?” Mark watched as you smiled at the boy, your hand laid over his head, softly brushing through his hair as Noah excitedly blurted the directions to the nearest convenience store. He was confused, and maybe just a little jealous, of how natural you were at handling all of this while he was freaked out and just plain scared. Part of him regretted going with you, feeling like he barged in on one of the universe’s biggest secrets, like he was unwillingly thrown a spoiler and now he’s afraid he might end up hating the rest of the movie because of it. “Let’s go, then,” you said, taking Noah’s hand in yours and turning your back to Mark, not sparing him a single glance. It took some minutes of watching you walk further away from him before Mark shook himself awake, got to his feet, dusted off his knee and ran to catch up with you.

* * *

_He couldn’t be more like his father,_ you thought as Noah kept indecisively picking up various frozen desserts only to put them back down. Mark stood on the other side of the chest type freezer, still not having spoken a word to you since you left the school grounds. “Hmm… do you want ice cream or yogurt?” You asked him, trying to help him decide. “I… want… yogurt!” He fished out two yogurt popsicles, handing the other one to you. You were about to close the freezer, but Noah’s hand shot up to your arm before you could. “Wait!” His hand went back inside, and you were about to sigh, thinking he changed his mind yet again. This time, he chose a cookies and cream flavored drumstick, but he didn’t put the yogurt popsicle back. Noah closed the freezer himself before walking over to Mark, shoving the ice cream in his hands. Mark looked surprised, but simply mumbled a _thanks._ “Daddy doesn’t like yogurt,” Noah explained once he was back to your side, Mark obviously picking up on his words by the way his eyebrows raised in Noah’s direction. The little boy motioned for you to lean in closer, “Daddy’s weird,” he whispered in your ear, making you smile as Noah giggled and sheepishly looked back to Mark who now had one eyebrow raised in suspicion, a faint smile tracing his lips but quickly disappearing when he noticed you staring at him.

You started walking to the cashier with Noah in tow, but a thought popped up in your head, abruptly stopping you in your tracks. Your hands pawed on your pockets although you already knew they were empty. In an act of distress, you turned to Mark behind you, who apparently had the same realization. “I left mine too…” he started, words trailing off as his eyes followed Noah who was still confidently walking up to the cashier. Your expression painted over with awe as you watched the little boy pull out a wallet from his backpack, holding a shiny silver card between two fingers a second later. “Mommy, daddy! Quick, they’re gonna melt,” Noah said with a pout. You and Mark suddenly looked to each other, but quickly pulled away your gazes out of embarrassment. You both set down the treats on the counter, and if the cashier cared enough to think that you two looked too young to be parents, he was kind enough to stay quiet about it.

Save from the munching noises that came from Noah, it’s been completely quiet since the three of you sat down on one of the tables outside the convenience store. Noah was sitting next to you while Mark sat across from him, both of them yet to lift their gazes off their cold treats since they started eating. You, however, have been subconsciously staring at your best friend this whole time. You couldn’t help but wonder how this was supposed to work out if he was so against it. Could the future be… _wrong?_ You recall what you’ve read from your grandmother’s diary. 

> _The movies lied to me. Time travel does not come with the power to change. This universe… it is awake. It is alive and it knows. It moves with the confidence that I will have to return to my rightful place, my rightful time. No matter how hard I try to change its course, it only reminds me of how small I am. The universe knows how to heal itself despite all my attempts to tear destiny to pieces. This_ ~~curse~~ _gift was never a chance for me to change this world, only to know it, experience it, and love it as it is._

You have trusted all her words entirely, but after everything, you weren’t entirely confident anymore. You saw Mark’s eyes flicker to Noah, and you quickly averted your gaze from him. “So… Noah,” he started. “Right. That’s what we named you,” he continued, laughing rather awkwardly. “Did we, uh, ever tell you why?” Noah looked confused at Mark’s question, head tilted slightly to one side as his eyebrows creased together. “I mean, did we ever explain why we named you Noah?” He clarified. The little boy’s expression cleared up in understanding. “Yeah, Noah like the grandpa with the… the big boat!” Mark’s eyes narrowed at his answer before realizing what he meant. “Oh, you mean Noah’s ark?” “Yeah, that’s what I said…” Noah said rather shyly, folding in on himself a little. You shuffled closer to the boy, wrapping an arm around him. “Yeah, the ark kind of was a big boat. Smart boy…” you mumbled the last part before pressing a kiss to the top of his head, making him look up to you and smile with traces of melted yogurt on the corners of his mouth. Mark watched thoughtfully as you used a napkin to wipe at the boy’s lips, a faint but welcome feeling seeping into him at the sight. 

“I’m not surprised you gave him such a Christian name,” you said, taking Mark by surprise. Your head was still clouded over with doubts and insecurities, but it was a huge respite to you that he was finally engaging and talking to his… _son._ “You did too,” Mark mumbled barely above a whisper. “What?” “You named him too,” you stared at him, unable to put a name to what you felt about his reply, but it was a good feeling nevertheless. “I mean, naming a kid, that’s got to be something, uh, I don’t know, _consensual,_ right?” You laughed at how he started to trip over his words again. You were used to Mark’s rambling, and you could use some of that familiarity right now. Your laughter relaxed into a smile when you saw Mark smiling back at you, his eyes flickering between you and Noah. “What about your Korean name? I mean, we probably gave you one… Mine is—” “Lee Minhyung!” Mark’s face brightened even more. “You know?” “Of course I know my daddy’s name.” Mark looked at you, the wonder-filled expression you loved gracing his features once more. “And your Korean name is...?” Mark asked. “Still Noah!” With that, he grabbed Mark’s arm with one hand before tracing the Hangul on Mark’s skin with his finger. _이농아_ Mark looked awestruck, his lips slightly parted, still staring at his arm seconds after Noah already retrieved his hand. “That’s… that’s actually quite smart of us,” he finally said, looking at you with a sweet expression mixed with pride. You felt a bit of heat rush to your cheeks, forcing you to look away from him.

“Oh!” You interjected, changing the subject as you remembered something. “The card you used earlier, we gave you that?” You asked Noah, to which he simply nodded. “Daddy said to use it for emergencies.” You looked at Mark with an amused expression, him just shrugging at you before leaning his elbows on the table, peering at Noah. “And you think ice cream and yogurt are emergencies, young man?” He asked in a fake strict voice, triggering an even wider smile from you. “Sorry,” Noah said with a cute bashful smile. “I like hanging out with mommy and daddy, so if I buy you sweets then you’ll always stay with me!” The boy reasoned out, a proud look on his face. Your smile dropped a bit at this. “Aw, but we like hanging out with you too. You don’t have to get us anything,” you cooed, Mark nodding in agreement with you. “If anything, we should be buying you ice cream and stuff. Um, I promise I’ll buy the next one,” Mark added. Noah’s face lit up at his words, “Next time? I’ll go with mommy and daddy again?” He exclaimed more than asked. You nodded, “Of course, baby.” “Even when mommy’s busy at—at the hospital?” You blinked at the boy, not sure how to respond to that. Thankfully, Mark cut in to save you. “If mommy’s busy, I could go with you,” he said, and you almost missed how easily he was able to call you ‘mommy’ this time. Noah frowned just a little. “But daddy doesn’t go home.” Your eyes widened at this piece of information, your mind immediately jumping to unpleasant conclusions. 

“W—what do you mean by that, buddy?” Mark asked, tension clear in his voice. “You're really really reallyyyy busy,” Noah began to explain, dragging on his syllables, “you always fly away and, and you don’t come back for a loooong time.” You both paused, mulling over his words. “Do you mean he flies away, like on airplanes?” You asked. Noah nodded, “Daddy’s famous! He’s a _rapper,”_ he continued, pronouncing the last word with an amusing flair. “The older boys at school know your songs, daddy!” You could have sworn your heart bounced in your chest. Mark will make it in the future, and he’s going to make it _big._ Memories of how he’s worked and practiced himself to the bone came flooding back to you, and you couldn’t be happier at this revelation. He deserves every bit of success and recognition. 

You looked to Mark, expecting him to wear the same big grin that adorned your face, but instead you were met with a significantly fainter smile and an almost wistful look on him. A bit of silence took over before Mark spoke, “Do you—are you sad? That I’m always away?” Noah gave him a small nod. “Do you wish that I… that I had a different job?” It was like you could see the gears turning in the little boy’s head, and you were afraid of what his answer might be and how it might affect Mark. Noah took another bite out of the popsicle before shaking his head. “No,” he said with his mouth full, and Mark visibly deflated across him, the tension released from his body. “I like that daddy’s popular,” he admitted, “all the bigger boys are nice to me.” You and Mark gave each other a look before laughing out loud, Noah’s little snickers quickly following suit.

His small laughs eventually died down, and you felt Noah’s hand tug on your elbow. “Mommy…” he whined. “What? What’s wrong?” “My tummy hurts, I wanna go potty.” “Oh. Okay, I’ll go with you then—” “Noooo, I’m a big boy now and, and I don’t wanna go to the girls’ washroom,” he argued with a frown. Cautiously, you looked over to Mark who was sporting a blank expression on his face, clearly clueless of what you were expecting from him. He was the youngest in his family, and you were pretty sure he’s never had to babysit any nieces or nephews before. “Uh, Mark? Could you maybe…” you trailed off, hoping he would piece it together himself. It took him a few seconds before it dawned on him. “You mean, me?” You nodded. “Oh, oh _shi_ —I mean, yeah, sure, of course! How hard could it be, right?” You sent a nervous smile his way while Noah pulled a pack of wet wipes out of his backpack. You had to give yourself a mental pat to the back, it seemed like future you was raising your son to be prepared for anything. You waved them off nervously, hoping nothing goes wrong as they walk their way to the washroom.

About ten minutes later, you heard Noah’s footsteps before you saw him approaching. “Mommy! I’m back!” Noah shouted a little too loudly. “Did you wash your hands?” He nodded standing next to you, Mark still a few feet back. When he got closer, you noticed how stunned he seemed with a faraway look in his eyes. “What, was it _that_ traumatizing?” You asked Mark once he was within earshot. Slowly, he turned his head to you, blinking a few times, “Did you know?” He asked. “Know what?” “That he waves and says ‘bye bye’ before flushing the toilet,” he whispered, an almost devastated look on his face, resembling a sad puppy. You couldn’t help but laugh, but your heart was squeezing at the story and his adorable expression. “Stop laughing! I’m serious, and to be honest it was a little weird but overall it’s just so… _ugh_ how can he be so cute?!” He whined, sounding almost angry. You shook your head at him. _Soft boy._ “Yeah,” you replied, “I wonder where he got it from.”

It was the most ironic thing, literally having all the time in your hands and yet it still managed to fly by so fast. You spent the last hour and a half just talking, laughing, and playing games at the same table, shooting Mark a look every time he didn’t let Noah win _(“It’s arm wrestling! It’s weirder if I lose”)._ Before you knew it, the sky had painted over in warm orange hues, signalling you that it was probably best to bring Noah home. You overheard him still talking excitedly to Mark, catching the words “arcade” and “hoops.” You cleared your throat and the two boys turned their gazes to you at the same time, still flooring you with their utter resemblance. “Uh, I hate to be a party pooper, but I think it’s time we go home, Noah.” The little boy shot you a heart-wrenching pout, almost making you want to apologize. “But I don’t wanna…” he whined. Mark smiled at the boy, and you marvelled at the stark contrast from his initial reaction to the whole situation just a few hours earlier. “Hey, it’s okay buddy. We can play again some other day.” This didn’t seem to console Noah, who frowned even harder, letting out frustrated whines as he shook his body and kicked his legs. “Okay, okay. How about we play at home instead?” Mark offered. Noah stilled, frown not leaving his face, but reluctantly nodding in the end. You gave Mark a concerned look, worried about how you were supposed to keep that promise given your situation. He just smiled at you, mouthing “I got this,” before getting up from his chair and holding Noah’s hand to guide him up.

* * *

The three of you stood side by side with Noah in the middle, his right hand holding onto Mark while the left was clutched on you. The two of you stared open-mouthed at the gated property in front of you, Noah’s head turned from left to right, visibly confused as to why his parents were suddenly frozen in place. You had arrived at the address stated on the back of his school ID, which was fortunately just a few minutes away from the school, and now here you were. It was the kind of house that belonged in a magazine. Leading a comfortable life while doing what you loved has always been one of the goals that you and Mark shared, it was also one of the reasons why you both gave your all in your respective fields. You always pushed and motivated each other, reminding yourselves of the dreams that awaited you. This whole glimpse into the future has dropped several tips on your future careers already, but now that one of the concrete proofs of your shared success stood in front of you, you almost couldn’t believe it.

“We… we’re gonna do just fine, aren’t we?” Mark mumbled. “Yeah. _Really_ fine,” you whispered back. “Mommy? Are we gonna go in now?” Noah’s small voice broke your reverie, and you turned to Mark for help, unsure of how you’re supposed to send the little boy off without it looking like you were abandoning him. Given the stories you’ve heard from him today, you knew that would be devastating. For all three of you. “The lights are all on,” Mark whispered, “I’m pretty sure I can see some people inside too.” The words went completely over Noah’s head, but you understood what Mark meant. “Hey buddy,” Mark leaned down, “wanna play hide and seek?” Noah’s spirits lifted up at the suggestion, bobbing his head up and down enthusiastically. Mark chuckled at his reaction, ruffling the little boy’s hair in one hand. “Okay then. We’ll close our eyes and count to ten, and you have to go hide somewhere inside the house, okay?” “And then you’ll find me?” The question was suspended in the air, the hopeful look in the boy’s eyes causing Mark to already feel a longing for something he hasn’t lost, something he didn't even have yet. He took a deep breath and nodded at the boy. “And then we’ll find you.”

“Okay, turn around and close your eyes!” You both did as you were told. “Promise no peeping, daddy!” “I promise.” “And promise no peeping, mom—” Quicker than light, instinct forced you to turn back around and run to the boy, dropping down to your knees and giving him the tightest hug you hoped would convey the words you couldn't bring yourself to say. “Mommy,” he whined as you held his head to the crook of your neck, keeping his gaze away from your face, “I said no peeping!” You choked out a laugh, “I'm sorry,” you said, your hand on the back of his neck guiding him to face you. “Mommy, what's wrong?” His little hand slowly went up to the side of your face, resting on your cheek. Giving him a big smile, you placed a hand on top of his, “Nothing. I'm just very happy to—to have played with you today, honey.” It was only a handful of hours, but youʼve grown so attached to the boy that leaving seemed like you were ripping off a part of yourself you didn't even know was there. You didnʼt know the reason behind the gush of emotions, you knew you could come back. Still, a part of you worried that you will have to live more than a decade before meeting him again, so you cup his face in your hands, eyes flittering over his features, trying to drink it all in and memorize how he looked at you with such unadulterated love. He was, _will be_ , yours. Your little boy. “Donʼt forget that I— _we_ love you, okay?” You planted a kiss on his forehead. “And if you ever feel lonely, please tell mommy and daddy. We love you and we never want you to feel sad, remember that. Okay?” He nodded impatiently, mumbling back a “Love you too,” before insisting “Let's play now?”

You gave him one last smile, the best you could muster, before returning to Mark's side. “You okay there?” He asked, hand slipping into your own, lacing his fingers with yours. You nodded, worried that speaking any further would break the dam of emotions threatening to collapse. “You ready buddy?” Mark called out to Noah, earning an excited “Yes!” from the boy. “Okay, I'll start counting now. One,” you closed your eyes and bowed your head. “Two, three,” there was a creaking sound of a gate opening. “Four, five, six,” you heard Noah's footsteps as they gained speed, sounding fainter after each step. “Seven, eight,” it was just Mark's voice now. “Nine,” you squeezed tighter on Mark's hand. “Ten.” Nothing. Your eyes were shut tight, but a tear still managed to squeeze its way out the corner. “Y/N? You can open your eyes now.” You looked up to him, not realizing how much your eyes have reddened. “Hey, hey. C'mere. It's okay…” he tried to console you, pulling on your arms to lock them around his waist before he encased his own around you, resting his chin atop your head. “This isn't really goodbye. It's gonna be okay,” he felt you release a sob on his chest, prompting him to place small kisses on your hair. “I know,” you whined out, “I just miss him already.” “Me too.” You didn't move for a few seconds until Mark pulled away. “We need to go back, though,” he said in a more serious tone. “We have this—this gorgeous future waiting for us, but itʼs still waiting for us to earn it. Letʼs go home and earn it together, yeah?” You looked into his eyes, feeling the sincerity pouring out of them, and for now it was enough to ease your emotions. You nodded, timidly taking his hand in yours to place it over the pendant of your necklace. You sighed before closing the gap between you, resting your forehead on his chest as you closed your eyes, cleared your mind, and thought: _home_. 

* * *

**[2020]**

It was pitch black and ice cold, and although it lasted for only a second, you were almost too afraid to open your eyes. “Y/N,” you heard Mark's voice, “we're back.” You opened your eyes to the familiar color of your walls, sighing to yourself before Mark cleared his throat and you realized that you were lying on top of him. “Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, sitting cross legged on the floor instead. He sat up next you, and for a while it was just quiet, neither of you saying anything. “Thank you,” he whispered, “and I'm sorry.” Gradually, you shifted your gaze to him and saw that he was looking down at the floor. “For what I said,” he coughed before continuing. “I was just—shocked and really, really scared. I wasn't ready for it, and honestly I'm still a little… out of sorts. But heʼs wonderful, I know that now, and _you're_ wonderful… and I've known that for a long time already. So I apologize for the stupid shit I said, I didn't mean it and I—I think,” you cut his words off with a hug. “I forgive you, Mark. And you don't have to say anything else. I know this was too much of a fast forward, for both of us. We don't have to rush anything right now. You're still my best friend, and I'm still yours, right?” You said, pulling away to look him in the eyes. "Right. You're still mine,” he said with a smile, a little breathless. “Right,” you mumbled as you suddenly stood up, embarrassed by the look he was giving you. 

You lied stomach down on the bed, feeling the space next to you dip as Mark took his place beside you. You found yourself replaying the day in your head, Mark quiet enough to leave you with your thoughts. “I'm still a little sad,” you began, Mark looking at you as you cut through the silence, “to know that I'll end up as—” “My wife?” “—an inattentive parent.” You spoke at the same time, but your ears caught onto Mark's guess nonetheless. “Oh, so youʼre calling me your wife now huh?” He looked away from you, ears a burning shade of red. “I thought we were taking it slow?” You asked with a lilt to your voice. “I am! I just—it was a guess,” he explained. “And youʼre not inattentive, just… busy.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “And thatʼs different, because from how I know you, youʼd be working really hard not just for yourself but with, with o—our family in mind…” he trailed off, clearly embarrassed. “Besides, judging from how wonderful the kid is, I think weʼll be doing a damn good job at raising him.” You had a small smile on your face, looking at him while he still refused to look at you. “You think so?” “I _know_ so. We literally saw it in the future, werenʼt you there with me?” You laughed at this, and he finally turned to gaze and smile at you. 

“You know, I always thought you would keep your own or at least hyphenate,” he muttered thoughtfully. “What?” “Your last name, _Y/N Lee.”_ You blushed slightly, not ready to admit that you liked the sound of it coming from him. “Well, you must be a very good future boyfriend if I decided to take on your last name.” He was silent for a bit, and you started to worry that you said the wrong thing. “Do you maybe wanna…” he began, “uh, test that theory now?” You understood perfectly what he was asking you, but it didn't stop you from staring at him with wide eyes. “What happened to taking it slow?” He groaned at that. “We know how itʼs gonna be anyway, whatʼs the point in waiting?” “Wow, itʼs almost like you never said you didn't want to marry me today.” “Hey, I never said that!” “Yeah. Sure you didnʼt.” “I didnʼt!” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Ugh. You're so difficult.” His words were a contrast to how he shimmied over to you, resting his head on the back of your shoulder. “Whatever,” he mumbled on your skin, “weʼll take it as slow as you want. Weʼll get there in the long run anyway.” You smiled to yourself without saying anything, eyes closed and heart contented as Mark eased onto you. 

“Wait,” you said, Mark lifting his head to look at you. “Could you get me some grapes from the fridge? I still need to practice.” He grumbled, but got up nonetheless, muttering a “You're lucky I love you” under his breath. “I love you too!” You shouted at him, surprising him enough to bump his elbow on the door frame, making you burst into giggles as he ran out of the room. 

* * *

**[2038]**

“Ow!” Noah rubbed on his forehead, having collided into something while running into the kitchen. “Honey?” He looked up, realizing it was a _someone._ “Mommy? How did you get here so fast? And why is your hair different again?” You raised an eyebrow in question as you freed your hair from a tight bun, a bit of relief flooding in as you massaged your scalp. “Hmm. I have a car, Noah. And I got a haircut recently. Thank you for noticing, honey.” He looked confused, but left it at that. “And whereʼs daddy?” “Oh, you didnʼt come with him? He got back today and he was supposed to pick y—” As if on cue, you heard the front door open and close, the familiar sound of shoes shuffling to be taken off immediately followed by the clank of keys thrown haphazardly on the counter. Your husband was home. “Noah?” He called out from the living room. “I'm here, daddy! Mommy found me first.” About to ask him what he meant, you were interrupted by a hand landing on your waist, soon followed by a peck to your cheek. “Hey, baby,” he greeted you. “Hello to you too. How was Tokyo? I heard the stadium was sold out.” He shrugged although he wore a smug smile. “It was great. Felt more empty than filled without you though…” You scrunched your nose at the cheesy line, dodging him as he leaned closer to kiss you, making him pinch your side lightly in retaliation before you gave in and accepted his lingering kiss. He pulled away and pecked your lips one more time before walking his way to the little boy who was sporting a disgusted face at the two of you. 

“Hey there my little buddy!” He said as he picked Noah up, making him giggle as Mark set him down on the center island. “Oh, right. Baby? Sorry I didn't pick him up today. I was running late on the way home so I called the school, but they said you already took him with you,” Mark explained as you dig through your son's backpack, looking for his lunchbox and tumbler but instead feeling something fuzzy against your skin. Before you could think of what your husband said, you pulled out the mystery item from the backpack and immediately the breath was knocked out of you. “Mark?” “Yeah?” “Come here for a quick sec.” His eyebrows scrunched up at the sight of what you held. “Wait, isnʼt that…” he trailed off, realizing what it was. There, in your hands, was your bumblebee headband that went missing. 18 years ago. On that fateful, crazy day.

His eyes flickered between you and the headband, and then at the red pendant hanging from the thin gold chain around your neck. “It happened today,” you whispered, and he nodded his head in understanding, moving closer to you and holding one of your hands. “Well at least we know where it went now…” he mumbled. You breathed an airy laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Iʼll put this away. Can you… talk to him?” Mark nodded, the memory of the conversations he had with his son that day clear as day to him. He walked over to Noah as you made your way to your shared bedroom. “Hey buddy, wanna play hide and seek?” Noah shook his head no. “Nah, mommy's too good at that. Wanna watch a movie now.” Mark chuckled at the boy, ruffling his hair. “Alright, then how about we go to the arcade tomorrow? You like that?” Noah gave him a big smile, matched with quick nods of his head. “And you owe me ice cream!” “Of course, how could I forget. Now quick, let's go watch a movie.” 

You heard the opening theme of Harry Potter, thinking to yourself that you would join them later. You closed the door behind you, heading into the dressing room where your vanity table stood. You leaned down, pulling on its lowest drawer. It was mostly empty save for two things. A little iridescent seashell, apparently it was the thing Mark wanted to show you in the playground until Noah chased and scared the wits out of him. He forgot to give it to you until he found it again while doing his laundry a few days later. You placed the headband down in the drawer, picking up the other item next to it instead. It was the journal. You smiled, the leathery texture of its covers familiar and comforting. For a moment, sentimentality took hold of you. You flipped through the pages, going near the end, looking for the entry that sent you on the most unbelievable, most wonderful adventure of your life. 

> _Y/N dear, my Y/N_
> 
> _You are a smart girl, and I trust that you at least have pieced together an idea of what I have been doing for so many years: time travel._
> 
> _Of all the wild and unimaginable things that this necklace brought to me, I am most grateful for you. Seeing you, knowing you, experiencing you - it changed me and brought me happiness in ways I could never lay down in writing. I saw you as a child, and I saw you grow up. I saw all the times you worked so hard. I saw you celebrate. I saw you breaking down. And darling, I want you to do everything with confidence because I have already seen you succeed. I wish you could have seen it with me. Alas, even time traveling could not grant me all my wishes._
> 
> _However, I would still want you to see things for yourself, even without me. There is a little surprise at the end of this letter for you. Please take care of it. It’s not everyday that you chance upon magic. The last few pages will teach you what you need to know. If you have read everything I have written down, I hope my own stories of mistakes and failure will not scare you from putting yourself out there. You are smart, ambitious, and beautiful, my darling, but I must say you can be quite the bore. Have a little fun, break a bit of rules, and take some risks, will you? You can worry about everything else later. After all, you have all the time in the world now._
> 
> _P.S., when in need of courage, I find that the presence of a loved one always eases the worries._

You thumbed over the attachment at the end of the letter. It was a photograph, hastily taped onto the page. It portrayed a bright, sunny day, somewhere with a lot of sand, two thin trees in the distance sandwiching a lone bench, and a slide that connected to a swing set. The smile that crept up your lips was unbidden, but you didn't dare wipe it off. You held the open journal your chest, closed your eyes, and sighed, whispering a small _thank you_ to the air.

**_< end>_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's done!!!! finally!!!!!!!!!!!! first part of the time bound series complete! i can start on the other membersʼ spin-offs! not soon though, i'll be working on a haechan birthday special first, but the next part of time bound will be about jaehyun, title: all the time in the world (look familiar? wink wink)! please leave feedback if you can, let me know what you liked or what i can improve on <3
> 
> on a more technical note, i did look up the school mentioned here, but i decided on it after the first part was published so... idrk if st george's has a playground lol idts but creative license i guess


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